The Fund Raiser
by tailkinker.au
Summary: An AU add-on to the CollarRedux universe created by oflymondddreams. In that universe House is a slave, while also working at PPTH. In this story Wilson finds out why Greg hates going to fund-raisers. Warning for Rape/Non-consensual sex.


**This is set in the CollarRedux universe created by oflymondddreams though it is AU to their stories. If you aren't familiar with the CollarRedux stories you should stop and go and read them first, and if you enjoy them please review the author to encourage them to keep writing :) **

**As a quick recap this universe is a version of PPTH where Greg is a slave, and Wilson is extremely interested in him :)**

**This takes place before Vogler's reign of terror.  
**

**This story comes from a plot bunny suggested by Ilumim - thanks!**

**Please read and review if you feel inclined - anonymous reviews are turned on. Further plot bunnies always welcome :)**

**Warning for this story - it contains non-consensual sex with the slave Greg House (not by Wilson). **

* * *

Wilson was running late. He'd meant to leave the hospital early so he could go home and get dressed and arrive back for the fund-raiser in plenty of time. Instead he'd been held up with a patient and when he left his office had barely enough time to make it back to his house and pick up Julie before returning. As he hurried down the corridor he passed two security guards, carrying a leash and slave chains and heading towards diagnostics. The guards were laughing and Wilson turned to watch them, wanting to go and see what was happening. Resolutely he turned away and hurried out of the hospital. Whatever was about to happen with Greg he could do nothing to stop it.

By the time he returned the fund-raiser was in full swing. The hospital foyer had been turned into a faux night club, complete with gaming tables and a dance floor. Various doctors and donors circulated in full evening wear, Cuddy presiding over her subjects like the queen of the ball.

Looking around Wilson spied Greg in a far corner near the bar. There were bar stools but he was standing, back to the wall and looking uncomfortable and ill at ease, his gaze was fixed on the floor. Wilson's breath caught. The guards had obviously been instructed to get Greg cleaned up for the event. He was clean shaven, his hair was cut and styled instead of its usual wild look. He was wearing a tux, the shirt concealing his collar from a casual glance. His plain wooden cane had been replaced by a silver one.

Wilson was surprised to see him here. Surely Cuddy would not want an unruly slave at the biggest fund-raiser of the year? Wilson had mentioned the event earlier in the week to Greg and had been met with a bleak look and a rapid change of subject. He'd taken that to mean that Greg disliked being reminded that he would not be invited to the event. Instead, here he was, dressed up and available to talk with the donors.

Wilson wanted to go over and talk to him, try to get him to relax. Maybe away from the normal hospital setting he could get a bit closer to the man who had resisted his advances so far. He glanced at Julie by his side and changed his mind. He didn't want Julie and Greg to meet. Greg was his little secret, his own project and it felt wrong to bring Julie into it. Besides, how would he explain to his wife his fascination with a slave if she saw Greg's collar?

As he stood there Greg looked up from the floor and met his gaze. For an instant he saw some trace of emotion on Greg's face, a fleeting glimpse of raw fear, and then Greg looked away again.

Wilson steered Julie away from that corner, introducing her to the other department heads, and to Cuddy. With one eye he kept a watch on Greg, standing silently in his corner. He saw a heavy-set man approach him, the man's arm going out to touch Greg's. His attention was called back to the conversation at his table and the next time he looked up Greg had disappeared.

Some time later he saw that Greg had reappeared in the corner, still standing and looking even more uncomfortable and out of place. He knew that Greg found standing for long periods of time painful and wondered why he didn't take a seat. There were many vacant stools so it wasn't like he would be taking one from free people.

Once again his attention was diverted momentarily and he lost sight of the object of his interest. When Greg reappeared again Wilson was intensely curious, where was he disappearing too? There were two bulky security guards at the entrance to the area, and another hovering not far from Greg. There wasn't anywhere much he _could_ go. If Cuddy had ordered his attendance for the night she wouldn't allow him to keep disappearing whenever he felt like it.

As Wilson watched he saw a donor approaching House. Wilson knew the man well, one of the hospitals most affluent donors Wilson had had a meeting with him when trying to raise funds for the oncology playroom. There was a hardness around him that had put Wilson off, a certain patronising tone to his voice.

The man was standing close to Greg, Greg was stepping back as if threatened. He looked around and met Wilson's eyes briefly before looking away, his shoulders slumping. The man put a heavy hand on Greg's shoulder and together they made their way to an exit. The security guard made no effort to stop them.

Wilson excused himself from his wife and slipped out behind the pair. He watched as they entered an exam room and the donor closed the door firmly behind him.

Maybe the donor had a medical condition he was reluctant to reveal to his normal doctor? Wilson thought for a moment and then made his way to a small security office off to the side. Each examination room had security cameras, and they could all be monitored from here. He sat down at the desk and turned on the monitors, shutting the door behind him to make sure he wasn't observed.

There was no sound but the pictures were quite clear. Greg was in the examination room, lying on the table on his back, shirt still mostly in place but open at the neck to expose his collar. His legs were up in stirrups usually used for gynaecological exams. His pants had been removed and he was naked from the waist down. His knees were spread widely apart by the stirrups and his genitals were exposed . Wilson suspected he had been shaved especially for the event, his skin was smooth and hairless. His balls and penis were encased in a cock ring that was cinched very tightly, his penis held erect by the device. He was looking off to the side, straight into the hidden camera. His face wore it's usual closed expression but he looked drawn and weary. Wilson could see one hand curled tightly around the edge of the table.

The donor was standing between Greg's legs, hands tracing up and down the inside of his thighs, a smile on his face. As Wilson watched he placed his hand between Greg's legs and pulled a large butt plug out of his ass. Greg gasped as it came out and the donor laughed. He tossed the piece of plastic behind on a bench and pulled his cock out of his pants.

With no more preparation than that the donor thrust himself into Greg. Greg opened his mouth and obviously cried out. The donor pulled out and then thrust again, and again and again. He settled into a quick pumping motion, his gloved hand wrapped around Greg's erection, teasing the tortured man. Finally he came with one last shove, emptying himself deep into the slave.

As briskly as he had started he withdrew, cleaning himself off on a cloth and tucking himself back into his pants. He said something to Greg, and then reached round for the butt plug, roughly replacing it, trapping his semen inside. He played with Greg's trapped penis some more and then slapped his ass, obviously telling him to get up.

Greg slowly took his legs down from the stirrups and sat up, slipping off the table to stand on clearly shaky legs. The donor thrust his pants at him and watched while Greg got dressed – no underwear Wilson noted. The butt plug and cock ring were again hidden from sight. The man laced his hand in Greg's hair and forced his chin up, straightening Greg's shirt up he concealed the collar from view. The man stepped back and looked Greg over from head to foot, then gave him a little pat on the butt, laughing as Greg squirmed away. Greg said something that obviously angered the man, he slapped Greg straight across the face, knocking him back against the table. Then he pushed him face first down across the surface and reached back for the silver cane that had been lying alongside the table.

The man brought the cane down across the seat of Greg's pants, Greg arched up and screamed. The man let him fall to the ground, throwing the cane down on top of him. He turned and left the room, leaving the door open. Wilson was getting ready to rush to Greg's aid when Greg hauled himself upright, smoothed down his clothes and made his way to the door. A security guard met him there and hustled him out of the room, back to the party.

Wilson switched off the monitors and slipped out of the office. A quick visit to the men's room enabled him to take care of the straining erection watching the video had given him. As he emerged he found Cuddy lurking in the corridor.

"Did you get a good view?"

He flushed, how had she known where he had been?

"I don't know what..."

"Don't lie to me Doctor Wilson." She smiled. "Greg is closely monitored by the guards during the night, in case of any misbehaviour or...unauthorised use. Your interest was reported to me."

"The use Mr Cabello made of him. Was that...unauthorised?"

Cuddy shrugged. "The donors have certain expectations for these nights. Those who are interested are allowed one turn each. Greg is kept ready with a lubricated butt plug all night so that he is not hurt, there is no damage."

"You could let them have any of the serving slaves they wanted. Why do you need Greg?"

"An educated slave? An educated crippled, _in pain_, slave ? Surely you know that there is a market for the more exotic tastes? They enjoy having him. The hospital enjoys the money it brings."

"And Greg?" Wilson asked, thinking of the pain on the man's face.

Cuddy looked puzzled.

"Don't try and make more of it that there is Doctor Wilson. Greg is a slave. The hospital paid millions for him, he costs millions more to run. We get our investment back any way we can. Don't make the mistake of seeing a piece of hospital equipment as a human being – we allowed Stacy Warner to treat him that way once and it was a mess and nearly destroyed him. I make sure he knows his place now. Nights like this – they are good for him, they remind him of what he is. "

Cuddy turned away. "I suggest you return to the party and to your lovely wife Dr Wilson and forget about the slave."

When Wilson went back to the party he noted that Julie was still happily chattering away to her new friends. He turned towards Greg's corner and observed him.

Greg was still standing, back to the wall. When Wilson got near he could see a faint flush to his features and a fine sheen of sweat on his face. There was a red mark across his face where Cabello had slapped him and his gaze was distant and bleak. Now he knew to look he could see the bulge in Greg's pants where the cock ring was holding him erect, he could imagine the butt plug sticking out of him.

As Wilson started to approach him another donor cut in between them and curtly gestured to Greg. Greg pushed himself slowly away from the wall and followed the man out the door, head down and eyes to the floor. Wilson wondered how many men had had that night, and how many were to follow.

The party was still in full swing but Wilson had lost his appetite for it and hustled Julie to the car, pleading a sudden illness.

As he lay in bed that night, next to his wife, all he could see was Greg, feet up in the stirrups, open and exposed as man after man filled him. Collar around his neck, helpless and in pain.

Wilson wanted a turn.


End file.
